Pa.

22nd of July 1994, my dad lost his own father.
it's 13 years since you died, Pa, and as I write this dad is travelling to your ashy rose. I haven't slept like I usually do for 4 days now, and I think it's the tiredness making me so emotional.

Because I can't even say that I miss you, Pa. you died when I was four, I have only the very tiniest memories of you. it hurt my dad so much to lose you, he dissappeared from his daughter, he hid from me that he was greiving. I had no concept of what it meant for you to die. Confused, I rejected and came to be afraid of a toy you gave me, and felt I should never talk about you again.

I think it hurt my father that I said I couldn't come to see your rose. If he had told me in advance, I would have made the time, but he only asked this morning and I have pretty much all my work to do. I would have come to see you Pa, but it would have been for my dad.

this is because I don't have many feelings and memories associated with you Pa. to me, it feels like Nan was always alone, missing someone that used to live with her. I don't know who you were, or what you were like. dad is never quick to talk about you, neither is the rest of my family, and I feel afraid and awkward to ask. As such, I, your granddaughter, don't know who you are.

I asked dad to tell you about Josh, how I am doing at school, how dad felt about me (probably not too awesome, as we had a disagreement last night) when he visits your rose. i'm a really happy and lucky girl Pa, and I would like it if you were around, so that I would know how to laugh and joke with you as I love to with mums' father. I would have really liked to be your grandchild, and I feel that dad wishes the same.

he loves you so much, but even more than he loves you, he misses you. and that is the bitterness he carries, and is yet to really overcome. I hope one day my father less hates the unfairness of your death, and more loves the man you were.

your wife thinks of you daily. and the same, she misses you. she hates to be alone; her comfortable, controlled life was destroyed when you died, and it's taken all her strength to create again a life full of ritual and security, but it's a thin layer of control. beneath, she's still a housewife who no longer has the husband her life revolved around. you'd be proud of her grandmothering skills, Pa. she treats my sister and I with the greatest love and smothering. I sleep at your house sometimes, I keep Nan company for you.

this is probably not what you exactly wanted your family to feel, 13 years on from your death. but then again, I have no idea what you would have wanted at all.

I cried for the grandfather I never had, and I ask for you please try to give your wife and son peace.